Keeping Secrets
by Gracie
Summary: What will it take for the captain to admit her feelings?


TITLE: Keeping Secrets  
  
AUTHOR: Gracie Kay  
  
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, and B'Elanna Torres . . . and the rest of the crew who boldly go just about nowhere each week . . . which is why I wish *I* owned them . . . sigh.   
  
FEEDBACK: You should all know that feedback is the reason we post stories on this site in the first place . . . but some of you obviously DO NOT. Please tell me what you think, and if you hate it, please tell me why so I can improve. THANKS! : )  
  
ITALICS: You could probably figure this out, but I'm using Notepad so I'm also using the nifty little asterisk (*) for italics. Sorry if I'm stating the obvious; it's one of my greatest talents. : )  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, folks. Read and beware. I am *not* a fan of Trek romance, not even J/C, although I like both of them a whole lot--I just can't make up my mind whether or not they belong *together* (although Chakotay certainly beats Michael Sullivan . . . am I the only one who hates that conglomeration of photons and force fields?). Sooo, this is my tribute, per se, to all those who like J/C romance, that yes, I can write it sorta, I just choose not to. Don't expect any kissing. I'm well aware that I have used the cliched Shuttle Crash Party Sixty-Five, but as a new fanfic writer I lacked the creativity to bring about injury any other way. So, for that, I apologize. Maybe it's all been done before . . . I really don't know . . . but at any rate, it's never been done *exactly* like this. : )  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
B'Elanna didn't awake sleepy or nauseous, but she must have still been a little light-headed. If she would have reflected on her first thoughts, she would have realized that they made almost no sense when viewed as a collection.   
  
*What happened? Hey, I'm alive. The ceiling . . . well, at least the captain managed to crash us right side up.*  
  
Then her brain started working again.   
  
*The captain!*   
  
Although it was her first impluse, B'Elanna knew better than to just sit straight up. She drew a shallow breath, experimentally. Finding no pain, she pulled in an extra deep one and felt the twinge of bruises. Then she slowly moved her head, arms, legs, fingers, and toes. One ankle was throbbing, but everything seemed to be in working order. As she slowly pushed herself into a  
sitting position, pain assaulted her head, and she bit back a moan. Captain Janeway must still be unconscious. B'Elanna knew that if Janeway was awake, she would be kneeling beside her, telling her to relax.  
  
But she wasn't awake, and B'Elanna had to find her. She crawled across the deck, not trusting her ankle yet to stand up. Her dark eyes searched through the wreckage and finally found--  
  
Her captain, lying face up, one arm thrown above her head, the other across her chest. B'Elanna hurried toward her and felt for her pulse. It was there, though weak and rapid, and she was breathing.   
  
B'Elanna sighed with relief. "Captain? Can you hear me?"  
  
There was no response, and she reluctantly left for a moment to find a medical tricorder. Good, still working. She passed the instrument over Janeway's body and gasped. *Oh, no.* The thought screamed at her as, ignoring the pain in her ankle, she stood up and limped to a console. *No, no, no.*  
  
Most of the systems were down--but not the comm system! *Be thankful for the little things,* she told herself, then realized it wasn't little at all.   
  
"Torres to Voyager." She could hear the tightness of her own voice. "Voyager, do you read?"  
  
*The storms,* she thought. *The same storms that knocked us out of the air are disrupting communication.*  
  
"Voyager, come in," she tried again desperately. "Please, anybody."   
  
Defeated, she returned to the motionless body on the deck. She took one hand in both her own and noted that it was cold, clammy. *Please come in, Voyager.* She didn't know how long she sat there, looking at the still face and willing it to show some sign of life. Suddenly she heard static, then a word --  
  
"Flyer . . ."  
  
She slapped her comm badge. "Voyager, this is the Delta Flyer."   
  
"B'Elanna . . ." More static, but she recognized Chakotay's voice. "How . . . condition . . .  
shuttle?"  
  
Hoping he could hear her better than she could hear him, she answered. "The shuttle's been damaged, but not beyond repair. We need a beam-out, Commander; the captain's hurt."  
  
"Can't . . . storm." Momentarily, the static cleared. "It's an unpredictable pattern, but we--"  
She lost him again. ". . . within an hour or so."  
  
"Chakotay," she said slowly, clearly, because it was vital that he understood, "the captain might not be alive in an hour."  
  
There was no answer, not even a reassuring static to tell her he'd heard her and was trying to reply. Only silence. Sighing, she returned to the captain's side.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Nothing. She hated her helplessness, wished Janeway would wake up . . . hated that the only thing she could do was wait.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
B'Elanna snapped awake and immediately began berating herself for falling asleep. Her instincts said she'd only dozed off for a minute, but a minute was too long. She had to keep an eye on the captain. Then she frowned. What had awakened her?   
  
She looked down at Janeway just as the other woman's eyes opened. Janeway tried to sit up, but B'Elanna quickly restrained her with firm but gentle hands on her shoulders.  
  
"Easy, Captain. You've gotta lie still."  
  
The captain's face was twisted with pain, almost more than B'Elanna could stand to see. For a long minute, Janeway was silent, then swallowed and spoke. "You . . . all right?"  
  
How could she even ask that question? *But really,* B'Elanna thought, *that's just like her.   
Always thinking about everyone but herself.* "I'm fine. Just fine."   
  
Janeway released a long, raspy sigh. "The Flyer?"  
  
"Most of the systems are off-line, except for life support and communications. But these storms are keeping us from communicating with Voyager--I got through for a few seconds, and Chakotay said they're doing what they can, but they won't be able to beam us for awhile yet. They've got to just wait for the storms to die down."  
  
She closed her eyes, then opened them, as though nodding. "All right, then . . . what's wrong with me?"  
  
B'Elanna hated the question. "Um, you'll be okay."  
  
Janeway shook her head slowly, a tiny, crooked smile dancing at her lips. "I know what I'm feeling, Lieutenant. Tell me--that's an order."  
  
"Well . . . you, um, you've got a punctured kidney, a few shattered ribs . . . and you're experiencing severe internal bleeding, Captain. There's nothing I can do for it with the resources on the Flyer. You need to be in sickbay."  
  
She closed her eyes again. "That sounds about right."   
  
The complete lack of color in her face frightened B'Elanna, as did her shallow breathing, her slow, drowsy speech, and the pain in her blue eyes. While B'Elanna had always seen her as commanding but small, she had never looked so . . . fragile . . . before. Like every breath she took could be her last.   
  
The next half hour was torture for B'Elanna, as Janeway grew weaker and she could do nothing about it. *How many crewmembers are forced to watch their captain bleed to death?* she wondered more than once. She cursed the storms, cursed the Flyer, cursed Starfleet for creating such a joke of a transporter, cursed Chakotay because he was in charge now and should be able to solve this dilemma. And she cursed herself, for being so helpless.   
  
"B-lanna." The voice was starting to slur.   
  
"Right here, Captain."  
  
"There's something I need to tell you before . . ."  
  
"You are not going to die!" B'Elanna interrupted. "Captain . . ." She felt tears in her eyes and cursed them, too. "Captain, you can't die. We need you. Please hold on, just a few more minutes. It'll only be a few more minutes."  
  
"No . . . I want you to listen to me. Don't talk anymore . . . all right?"  
  
Biting her lip, B'Elanna nodded.   
  
"I want you to know . . . how proud I am of you. You know I . . . I was doubtful about appointing you to chief engineer. Chakotay . . . I did it for him. But . . . you have exceeded my expectations . . . in every possible way."  
  
B'Elanna nodded, and after a moment of silence, she felt obliged to speak. "Thank-you, Captain." She looked down. The blue eyes were drifting closed. "Captain?"  
  
"Tell . . ."  
  
*Tell who what? I'll tell anyone anything, if you'll just keep breathing, keep living, keep  
fighting.*  
  
"Chakotay . . ."  
  
B'Elanna took her hand. "Tell him what? What do you want me to tell Chakotay?"  
  
"I loved him." The words startled her with their clarity. Janeway seemed to be coming out of her drowsiness. "Please tell him."   
  
B'Elanna stared at her. She couldn't help it. "Wh-why did you never tell him yourself?"  
  
The familiar, crooked smile graced Janeway's lips once more. "I couldn't. I'm the captain."   
  
"But . . ." Suddenly it struck her, how unfair this life in the Delta Quadrant was to Janeway.   
How she could never form bonds with people the way the rest of the crew could, how she could never, really, just be herself. How she held herself to a standard no one should have to live up to, especially for six years.   
  
"Captain, listen to me. You're not gonna die. You're going to live to tell him yourself. You  
have to tell him."  
  
*Because he loves you, too.* She didn't say it, but she thought it. She knew Chakotay loved the captain, she had seen it in his eyes and heard it in his voice, in the way he talked about her. She had seen it in his reaction whenever Janeway's life was threatened by some hostile force over which he had no control. She had seen it over and over, so many times, but never had she thought that the captain could feel the same way toward him.   
  
Janeway's eyes were closing, and B'Elanna shook her head. It was as though she could feel that death had entered the shuttle, prowling cold and ravenous, circling closer to the two of them. Like a giant, invisible beast. She shuddered.   
  
"I promise. I'll tell him." Eyes filling with tears, she waited for the captain to stop breathing. But her chest continued to rise and fall, and B'Elanna was startled by a burst of static.   
  
"Voyager to the Delta Flyer. Come in, B'Elanna."  
  
His voice was crystal clear, and she hit her badge. "Chakotay, beam us to sickbay!"   
  
"Understood. We're getting you out of there."  
  
She squeezed Janeway's hand as they dematerialized. She was still holding it as the walls of sickbay came into view around her.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You asked to see me, Captain?" B'Elanna asked crisply as she stood in the ready room. This room always had that effect on her; she felt obliged to be stiff and formal, inordinately cautious  
of her words and conduct . . . like she was walking on eggshells. Usually, Captain Janeway allowed the formality.   
  
But not today. She rose from the desk and walked over to the observation port, gazing out at the field of stars that passed by. To B'Elanna, the captain still looked a little pale, and she knew  
that the Doctor was less than pleased at her return to duty the morning after such a close call. She thought back to when the Doctor told Chakotay that Janeway would survive, but had been less  
than an hour away from death.   
  
"A less skilled physician would not have been able to save her," he had added with that annoying, self-satisifed smile. B'Elanna had wanted to wipe the smirk right off his holographic face, but Chakotay only approached the biobed and took Janeway's hand in his two larger ones. He looked down at her sleeping face for a long time, and B'Elanna saw more than the anxiety that haunted his dark features whenever the captain was in trouble. She saw love.   
  
She realized she had allowed her mind to wander, and she snapped back to attention, but she needn't have worried: Janeway still stood gazing out the window. The silence continued to stretch so long that B'Elanna started to wonder if the captain was ever going to break it. She stood there a prolonged moment, a little confused by what she was feeling. B'Elanna Torres was not often affected by compassion, but when she was, it was an almost overwhelming emotion. So  
without stopping to wonder if it was in keeping with protocol, she stepped quietly over to join the captain at the window. Together, they looked at the stars for a long minute.   
  
Finally, Janeway spoke. "Now that you're here . . . I guess I don't know what to say."  
  
B'Elanna looked sideways and was surprised at the naked vulnerability in Janeway's eyes. She had never seen it before, and now she wondered if it was new, or if the captain just hid it very well. "I didn't tell him, Captain. I won't. But . . ." She paused because Janeway still wasn't meeting her gaze. "I think you should."   
  
The little woman who carried the heaviest burden of them all bowed her head. "I told you I can't."  
  
"Why not?" she persisted. "Why do you think you can't feel anything toward anybody? We might be out here the rest of our lives, and you--" She stopped when Janeway's eyes flickered upward. She didn't say the words, but she might as well have.   
  
*Don't say that--don't ever, ever say that. We _are_ going home.*   
  
B'Elanna's voice softened. "It's not fair." She didn't know what else to say.   
  
"Maybe not. But it's part of being a captain, B'Elanna."  
  
B'Elanna spoke from her heart. "Then I could never be a captain. I could never keep my feelings a secret like that."  
  
"In that case, I appreciate your respect for my wishes."  
  
She nodded, and the silence was suddenly awkward. "Um, was that all, Captain?" The moment she said it, she regretted it. Janeway's mask slipped back over her face, and the openness between them closed up again.   
  
"Yes," the captain said simply. "Dismissed." \  
  
B'Elanna nodded, feeling the usual rigidity of this room snap back into place. She didn't say another word as she left the ready room, but to herself she thought, *No, I could never be a  
captain.* 


End file.
